


Goodbye, Mr. Stark, thanks for trying

by jelly_pies



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Peter Parker, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Peter Parker Whump, Protective Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-19 11:01:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelly_pies/pseuds/jelly_pies
Summary: "Mr. Stark! Stop! It's not gonna be enough!" Despite himself, Peter's voice chokes up. He bites down on a trembling lip, takes a deep breath. "You have to let me go."Tony wants to protest. To keep fighting, to scream, to do anything. But the countdown cuts like a blade, red numbers bleeding. Peter, bleeding, all the fight drained from his stone-like face.Peter Parker is going to die with a bomb on his chest, and a reassuring smile. Tony almost wishes he would cry.-For FebuWhump Day 28: "You have to let me go."
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 126
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	Goodbye, Mr. Stark, thanks for trying

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure who to credit for the six-word story "Goodbye, mission control, thanks for trying"—but whoever was the original source, thanks for the inspiration!

"Mr. Stark! Stop! It's not gonna be enough!" Despite himself, Peter's voice chokes up. He bites down on a trembling lip, takes a deep breath. "You have to let me go."

Tony wants to protest. To keep fighting, to scream, to do anything. But the countdown cuts like a blade, red numbers bleeding. Peter, bleeding, all the fight drained from his stone-like face.

Peter Parker is going to die with a bomb on his chest, and a reassuring smile. Tony almost wishes he would cry.

"Kid—" Nothing else comes out. Too many words are stuck in Tony's throat.

Peter inches forward in the chains that hadn't broken in the last hour, and aren't about to break now. The reinforced glass cage keeping him from the outside world, from Tony, barely shakes under one last push. And Peter finally collapses against the glass.

Inches away, Tony lays his own hand in line with Peter's. Hoping, not for the first time, that he could take the kid's place.

 _I don't want to go,_ rings in Tony's ears.

"It's okay," says the Peter in front of him. His head is bowed, his voice soft, impossibly steady. Steady as the numbers spelling his fate. _01:00. 00:59._ "Tell May… MJ, Ned… I—I thought of them… at the very end."

_I don't want to go, Mr. Stark, please._

At least last time, Peter had passed in his arms.

_I'm sorry._

"It's not your fault, Tony, okay?"

The words break through the storm in his mind. Tony's head snaps up. "No way in hell should I be the one being _comforted_ right now—"

"I want you to hear it from _me."_ Peter meets his eyes, the exposed wires on his neck visible in the dim light. Reminders of their millions of failed attempts—of Peter's restrained and bruised fingers scratching at the explosives strapped to his torso—of Tony's quietly growing desperation, spouting bomb dismantling instructions from the other side of the glass cage. None of it had been enough. None of it would save Peter.

Tony's hand on the glass turns into a fist, his gaze straying to the logo of the metal casing on Peter's chest. _Stark Industries._

It’s enough to make him physically flinch. Tony looks away with effort, brings his eyes back to his kid. "Y-you were—you mean so—" These are to be their last words, then. And Tony wants them, needs them to mean something. He takes a shaky breath. "You are so brave. _So_ brave, Pete. And so loved."

_00:25. 00:24._

Peter smiles through wet eyes. “I know. And it—it's okay. I'm okay.” His hands begin to move again, scratching at the wires around his chest as if grasping for straws. Clinging to life. And every fiber in Tony's being screams _no, this is not okay, none of this is okay._

But they are simply out of time.

"Um. You should probably… back away from the glass, or…"

"I'm not going anywhere." Tony plants his arms against the cage in emphasis. He knows his weapons; if Peter's super strength couldn't so much as crack this glass, the bomb blast won't hurt Tony, either. Apart from shattering his world in front of his eyes.

The very least he can do is stay until the end.

_00:10. 00:09._

Tony takes one last look at the kid who deserves life so much more than him. The hero who could have done so much better. The family he won’t be able to save.

"Goodbye, Mr. Stark." Peter's fingers still move around the wires, perhaps subconsciously, and Tony’s chest aches at the sight of him trying, one last time, to live. But there's only a quiet acceptance in Peter’s voice— "Thanks for trying."

And that hurts the most.

Peter closes his eyes. Tony can’t. Too many words are stuck in his throat. "Goodbye, kid—"

Nothing else comes out.

_00:03. 00:02. 00:01._

_Click._

Peter stumbles.

Peter falls against the glass. And Tony cries out.

There's a beat. A dreadful beat, of anticipation, of time screeching to a halt, of Tony's mind screaming on overdrive.

Then another beat.

And another.

And slowly, so slowly, Tony takes in the notable absence of blood, of an explosion. And the notable presence of Peter.

"Peter?" Tony bangs on the glass. "Peter, talk to me!"

Then another beat. And another. And—

"Holy _shit."_ Peter lifts his head, disconnected wires in hand. _Grinning._ "I wasn't sure that would work!"

Tony falls on his behind, away from the glass. "What the f—"

"Don't be mad! Mr. Stark, you were right about the kill switch!" And then Peter is rambling, Peter is gesturing wildly—Peter is _still there._ "The relay we tried at 49 minutes and 30 and 12—they rewired it—and I had one last guess at the _last_ possible second—I didn't know if it would work, I really thought—that could have been—holy shit! That was close!"

Tony wants to shout back. To leap for joy, to run to his kid, to do anything. But he's rendered speechless, frozen as the red numbers still strapped on Peter’s chest.

_00:01._

Slowly, Tony pulls himself up, the world shaking under his hands, but still solid. Still there. "Peter Parker," he breathes. "You… goddamned miracle."

Shakily at first, and then building into a great burst of relief, Peter laughs.

They know what comes next. They'd discussed it endlessly within the last hour—dismantling the rest of the bomb, leveraging the metal to free Peter's chains, rerouting the explosives to break the cage hinges and free Peter. And getting the hell out of there.

Peter still had to do all the work, and they had a long way to go, but for now, they pause. They breathe.

Tony leans against the glass. Inches away, Peter lays his own hand in line with Tony's. Peter takes a deep breath, bites down on a still shaky lip, and smiles. "Hi, Mr. Stark," he says, voice choking up.

There are still too many words stuck in Tony's throat. But he could say it all later. They would have a later.

"Hey, Spider-Man," Tony replies simply. "You did it."


End file.
